


For Someone Like Me

by saekhwa



Category: Hustle Cat
Genre: Aftercare, Domestic Fluff, Inspired by Poetry, Nonbinary Character, Other, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:12:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/saekhwa
Summary: When Avery gets comfortable, they fall asleep. They can't help it.





	For Someone Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Poetry Fiction's July prompts challenge](http://poetry-fiction-challenge.tumblr.com/tagged/july-mini-prompts):  
> "Why flirt with the moon in the middle of the day?" — Hồ Xuân Hương

Avery yawns, which immediately triggers a good, long stretch that makes their bones pop. They flop back to the bed and blink. No work today, but they still have a nagging sense that they're missing something. A glance at the window only showcases sunlight shining through the curtains, and they're not sure why, but that's what helps them remember. 

They wince, sitting upright as they look around to try and figure out where Mason is. Did she leave? Maybe she left? She probably left. But maybe not, because Avery's still wearing the leather cuffs. They're not connected anymore and they're looser around their wrists, the gray fleece lining sliding soft down their arms when they raise and lower their hands. So maybe Mason is still here. She wouldn't leave these on, right?

Avery rubs the cuffs and inches toward the door, peering out with a tentative, "Mason?"

Flinching is not a good way to start an apology, but Avery can't help it. Mason moves so fast, and she _towers_ , filling up the small hallway in a way that makes Avery's stomach churn with aroused fear, which is exactly how they got into this whole… Thing? No, it's way bigger than that. Bind? Ha ha, they think, twisting the cuff around their wrist. Scene (that was the word) in the first place.

"I fell asleep again, didn't I?" Avery asks, because they live for the obvious questions. 

"'S good." Mason runs her fingers through Avery's hair, and Avery pushes into it. 

Maybe they never turned into a cat, but working with so many cats kind of gives a person a few ideas about how to keep the petting going and where the good spots are. Even though this is exactly what got Avery into trouble in the first place. Maybe Reese was right. Maybe Avery was narcoleptic. Or midday naps were a holdover from the cat curse. 

Avery'd just been so comfortable, sitting on the chair that Mason had positioned right at the border of the kitchen. Mason never asked for much. Just sit there, she'd said, while she chopped and whipped and worked her magic — ha — in the kitchen. And when she rinsed her hands, she'd pet Avery's hair, run her fingers slowly from the top of their head all the way to their neck and end with a squeeze and a kiss to their forehead. 

Avery sighs at the memory of it and then thinks they're pretty lucky they hadn't fallen off the chair. Probably had Mason to thank for that. 

Which draws Avery right back, 'cause Mason scritches Avery's scalp, making Avery's whole body tingle as they sigh. So it's kind of a shock when the backs of their knees hit the mattress and they flail wildly for a moment before Mason catches their arms and gently guides them down onto the bed. 

Avery watches Mason unbuckle the cuffs. "Does this…" Avery swallows as Mason slips each one off, setting them out of sight on the floor. 

She checks Avery's wrists, even though Avery doesn't think she needs to. The cuffs were really soft, like pillows on their wrists. 

"What do you get out of this?" Avery asks. 

Mason can probably feel the rapid flutter of Avery's pulse when she swipes her thumbs over Avery's wrists. Her thumb moves in tight circles that move toward the center of Avery's palms. 

"Like taking care of you," Mason says, and kisses Avery's fingertips. "I like it when you do what I say." She looks up. Avery's not expecting it, so they're frozen by her stare. "You?"

That one's so easy that Avery laughs. "Sleep, apparently."

It earns Avery one of those blink-and-you'll-miss-it smiles, but Avery hasn't arbitrarily named themselves staring contest champ for nothing. They grin, too. 

"So…" They scoot closer, bumping Mason's thigh with their knee. "It was okay then? Even though I kind of messed up?"

"'S good," Mason says. 

For a second, Avery's not sure what she's trying to do when she uses her grip on Avery's wrists to pull them forward. Seems like a kiss, so Avery leans in for it and almost headbutts Mason's chin when she wraps their arms around her waist, resting her chin on top of their head. She wraps her arms around Avery, too, and duh. A hug. Avery can do hugs. They're great at hugs. 

They're ready to settle in for the long haul when Mason murmurs, "You were good." 

Avery can't help but smile and squeezes Mason more tightly. 

They're probably going to fall asleep again, but it's hard not to when Mason rubs their back with long, firm strokes, Mason's cheek warm against the top of their head, all of Mason a welcome weight that makes Avery feel safe. It's perfect. So much so that Avery thinks about purring but just smothers a laugh against Mason's shoulder instead.


End file.
